


gymnophoria

by hellalujah



Series: uncommon words - a collection of prompt fills [3]
Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: Hugo jerks it to portgo content on the internet, I'm Sorry, M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Solo, don't look at me, that's all this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:58:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8673589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellalujah/pseuds/hellalujah
Summary: (noun) the sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i am. so sorry for this
> 
> thanks @ p of portgohell for inspiring this idea
> 
> tbh @ everyone else don't read this it's Bad and poorly written but like sometimes you just gotta. write some shit.

They come off stage and Hugo’s been pushing it all night with Porter, hands on his shoulders and his waist and his hip. Cupping his cheek and whispering in his ear right in front of the audience. He’d been so close that his lips had brushed against Porter’s earlobe and Porter had laughed and laughed and slapped him on the back, so agonizingly friendly when the last thing Hugo wants is to just be _friends_.

He wants Porter so badly.

It’s almost impossible now that he’s always standing up on stage with him. The afterparties are the worst, the constant elbowing into each other’s space and brushing of fingers as they both reach for the same knob or slider. Hugo can’t remember an afterparty so far that he hadn’t come off stage so hard that it’d _ached_.

They make it to their hotel and Hugo’s thankful for it, for once - he loves being on the bus, being in close proximity to Porter all the time, but right now it’s too much.

In the hall outside the elevator Porter throws an arm around him and says good night before he trots off to his room. Hugo watches him go. He’s loose with alcohol, shoulders dropped and swaying just a little.

For a second Hugo thinks about following him. Porter’s drunk enough that he’d probably let Hugo kiss him.

He doesn’t, though. He stands there until Porter disappears around a corner and if anyone had been watching he probably would have been standing there for an awkwardly long time.

Hugo lets himself into his hotel room and flops bonelessly into the chair at the little desk. His laptop is there and he opens it, rubs at his face with the heel of his hand before he starts to scroll idly through Twitter.

It takes him a moment to realize he’s not actually processing anything he’s scrolling past. He’s just staring blankly at the screen.

He’s still hard, too.

He chews at the inside of his cheek and considers. It’s almost four in the morning but he’s all alone in the hotel room.

For a wild second he looks over his shoulder, heart speeding at the idea that someone might see what he’s about to do.

Hugo shakes his head. There’s no one here. There’ll be no consequence.

There’s a fridge under the desk and Hugo opens it, grabs a handful of mini liquor bottles and lays them out on the desk next to his Macbook. Considers them for a moment before twisting the lids off of them all and slamming three back in rapid succession.

He turns back to the computer and carefully types in a URL.

He hesitates when the site loads. He hasn't been to Tumblr in over a year and he'd let everyone think it was because he was uncomfortable, let Porter specifically think he was uncomfortable. Really he was ashamed. He's been more than a little disgusted with himself for… a long while now.

He bites his tongue and then types ‘portgo’ in the search bar.

Dozens and dozens of results pop up and Hugo purses his lips, sorts it by popularity. It's mostly fanfiction, little drabbles written by people with usernames Hugo's never heard of. Some art, mostly cutesy stuff. Redraws of the Shelter cover with he and Porter holding hands.

It's sweet. Hugo's heart aches.

He shakes himself.

Sifting through some of the fanfiction reveals that the majority of it is domestic, a few paragraphs long and written by people who are too young for Hugo to feel anything but guilty looking at.

And then he hits the jackpot.

A couple of users, both over twenty one, and Hugo stops feeling guilty about that at least. They've both got thousands of words of content up, a lot of that same domestic slice of life stuff but then there's _porn_ and Hugo's fully hard again, dick straining at his jeans almost immediately.

There’s some older pieces, one about he and Porter and Anton and Dillon smoking weed before he and Porter go back to a hotel room and suck each other off, and that’s when Hugo undoes his jeans. He sighs audibly when the pressure is off his cock, even trapped in his underwear as it is. He palms it through the fabric of his boxers, squeezes gently at the head before opening a few other tabs in his browser.

More short works of them blowing each other, jerking each other off backstage. Mostly Porter taking control and Hugo smiles at that. He wouldn’t mind that at all, he thinks, Porter pushing him up against a wall and rutting against him until they both came in their pants.

Hugo sighs and massages his dick, closes his eyes for a moment and breathes. Then he hooks his thumb in his underwear and tugs them down, hisses out a breath when he finally wraps a hand around himself.

There’s an entire Tumblr that seems to be dedicated to just drawings of he and Porter and Hugo skims through it. It’s mostly cute things, again, the more recent posts anyway. And then he clicks the next button and it’s…

It’s a drawing of Porter, arms on either side of Hugo’s head as he presses him against a wall. They’re both still fully clothed, grinding their dicks together through their jeans and Hugo’s hand spasms around his own cock. His other hand is shaking where it’s resting on the keyboard. Next to that is a picture of _him_ and he’s in a damn _schoolgirl outfit_ , dick hard and lifting up the skirt and he has to laugh, just a little. He loves his fans so much right now.

He takes a breath when he realizes that he hasn’t in an uncomfortably long time, hesitates for a moment before scrolling down to see the rest of the post.

He groans audibly and closes his hand around the head of his cock.

The little drawn version of him is lifting Porter, arms under his legs as he thrusts into him. He seems to have a collar around his neck and there’s a leash leading to Porter’s hand. Hugo works his hand slowly down his shaft. He’s still shaking.

He imagines Porter collaring him and a shiver runs down his spine. He lets himself squeeze a little harder on the next pass over his aching cock and it feels good. Almost too good and he realizes he hasn’t actually touched himself since he got back to the States a week ago.

Porter is killing him a little, he thinks wryly.

He licks his lips and breathes. The next image is Porter and this time he’s the one collared, cheek pressed to the ground and a cock in his mouth. Hugo thumbs at his own cock and then lets go, spits in his hand and closes it around the head. He imagines what Porter’s lips might feel like wrapped around his cock. It’s not like he’s never thought about it; it’s hard not to. With a mouth like Porter’s Hugo thinks it's almost _impossible_ not to think about.

Hugo rolls his wrist and sighs. He’s so tense. There’s no way he’s going to last long but he starts stroking himself anyway, long and even and firm.

He clicks ahead again and it’s mostly those cute drawings again but then there’s another post, and it’s him, much younger but with his mouth around Porter’s cock, Porter’s trembling hand in his hair. And then him up on his hands and knees with Porter fucking into him and Hugo moans out loud, squeezes his eyes shut. He wants this, he wants all of this _so badly_ it aches in his throat, behind his eyes. It throbs in his cock. He wants Porter fucking him, filling him up, almost as much as he wants to do the same to Porter.

And then he forces his eyes back open, forces his shaking hand to scroll down and then he’s moaning yet again and his hand speeds on his dick.

Porter, sprawled on his back and this time Hugo’s the one fucking him. Porter in Hugo’s lap, blushing so sweetly.

Hugo wants him so badly. He wants to fuck Porter and bite his ownership into his neck and shoulders until Porter is screaming his name, until Porter never forgets who he belongs to.

“M-merde,” he breathes, and his hand is trembling when he twists his palm around the head of his dick again. “Fuck, merde, _Porter._ ”

And then he comes.

He comes so hard he whites out, so hard that his head is spinning and he’s whispering Porter’s name over and over as he spills into his hand.

He’s shaking so badly when he finally comes back to himself, dick going soft in his hand. There’s come all over his fingers and some on the desk and even a drop on his keyboard that he stares at distastefully before reaching over for the box of Kleenex on the nightstand. He delicately cleans himself up, wipes off the keyboard.

When he looks back up at the screen the image is still up and he flinches, slams his laptop shut.

He’s disgusting. He’s so disgusting and it’s making him nauseous and his fingers are still a little sticky and he distantly, or maybe not so distantly, he hates himself.

He forces himself up out of the chair and staggers into the bathroom. His shoulder hits the doorframe and it hurts, distantly, but he can’t bring himself to care. The water’s too cold when he washes his hands but he can’t care about that either.

He can’t look at himself in the mirror. Just turns his back and goes back to the bed. He doesn’t take off his jeans or turn off the lights. He doesn't think about what he's done.

Or he tries not to, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to 'you give me that body high' which is to this day still one of my fave edm fics  
> also to portgohell for providing Hella Inspo


End file.
